


used to be a lovely boy

by Aisu



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roleswap, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, asriel dreemurrs terrible no good very bad month
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisu/pseuds/Aisu
Summary: With his older sibling Kris off to college, and his family starting to heal slowly, Asriel finds himself confronted with something new - something that threatens to take everything from him.But maybe that's for the better.





	1. life goes on

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to distanceseventeen and also random anons on tumblr for the core ideas here

"Kris, honey, are you almost ready?"

"Almost!" Kris lies, frantically stuffing shirts into their suitcase. They look at Asriel, almost pleading. "Azzy, why do I own so many clothes? Why are clothes? If we must have them, why can't I just wear the same thing daily?"

Asriel looks at the brown and green lump of clothing in their suitcase. "I mean, you already kind of do," he points out with a teasing grin.

"It's called a fashion style," Kris says, shaking their head, fighting back a grin of their own. "Mori kei. I'm stylish."

"I mean, you used to just call it 'shut up, I'm comfy'." 

"Still do, sometimes. And I'm not the one that dresses like a living rainbow." With effort, they zip the suitcase shut. "Help me grab my meds?"

Asriel nods, climbing to his feet, heading to grab the little assortment of pill bottles off the dresser and dump them into a ziploc bag. "You and mom got your prescriptions transferred, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. That's all set up, and I have references for new doctors and psychs and endrocrinologists and... the whole Kris Dreemurr assortment." They snort, holding up their hand. Asriel tosses the bag over, and they catch it with only a bit of clumsiness.

Asriel shrugs, going to check through the drawers for anything left behind. "Good. Because I will be texting you annoying reminders daily. You haven't seen nagging like this before. Gonna outdo mom, even."

They laugh at that, shaking their head. "Don't think that's possible, but... thanks."

There's a moment of quiet.

"Not sure what I'm going to do without you, you know?" they say, and their voice is hoarse, quiet.

Asriel hesitates, for just a second, smile more fixed on his face.

Then he goes to kneel by Kris on the carpet, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. With his latest growth spurt, he's started to gain height on Kris, his fur growing in denser and thicker, his arms broader. Kris almost seems dwarfed by him.

Looking at them, it'd be hard to tell that Kris is the older sibling.

"You're going to do great, Kris," Asriel says, soft. "You're going to knock everyone there dead. And I'll make it to all your recitals and stuff, promise. Cheering you on."

"I'm going to Rickroll you," they threaten. "Sabotage my entire college career just so that I can play the stirring notes of Never Gonna Give You Up to you, specifically."

Asriel grins a little, bumping his head against theirs lightly. "Looking forward to it." He smiles at them, warm. "Now c'mon. Let's get your keyboard loaded up before mom just physically carries you out of here."

"Kris!" Toriel calls, as if on cue. "Are you ready yet?"

They both pause for a moment, looking at each other, and then break into giggles.

\---

Life goes on the same as ever.

Asriel has plenty to fill his days with, after all. Helping dad at the shop after school (still always in the red, but a little less every day, with Asriel encouraging and supporting him). Helping mom bake for bake sales or church events (and she smiles a little more, relaxes a little more, seems willing to let more things go). Texting Kris, when they give him updates on school (and they're making friends, slowly, finding places they belong). After school clubs and sports, and maybe talking to Noelle, after, since they're in so many of the same clubs (and he listens to her when she talks about her dad, offers the support he can). Church choir. Community service. Odd jobs around town.

The first time he finds himself somewhere odd, he's so exhausted he barely notices.

He's sitting on grass, back against something cool to the touch. The sun is setting, casting everything into reds and golds, and he can just make out the first stars coming out.

He stares up at them, hazily. They flicker and burn, infinitely distant, so much brighter than the sickly-green glow in the dark stars on the ceiling of his bedroom. There almost seems to be some message written in them, some secret encoded in their pattern.

It's a long time before he looks away.

He recognizes where he is, of course. The old rusty doors at the edge of town, leading to--some old mineshaft, or something. Toriel's warned him and Kris away from them before, worried about the many dangers of abandoned places ranging from tetanus to secret murderers, not that that had stopped them.

He hasn't come here in years. After they had given up on opening the doors, the spot had become less intriguing and more boring.

He doesn't know why he's sitting there again.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it, and pulls himself to his feet. Maybe he had come there with a friend after--track? Choir? What day was it?

With a wince, he presses his hand to his forehead, starting to stumble home. It was just exhaustion, most likely, he tells himself. All he needs is some proper sleep, and things will be better.

The town is quiet after dark, the shadows deep around him. He walks through, still gazing up at the stars now and again. He thinks of the telescope back home, wonders if he has time to take it out and spend some time stargazing.

The lights of his home are bright, warm, illuminating the way. He pushes open the door, heading in into the warmth.

"Asriel, honey?" Toriel calls from the dining table. She's surrounded by sheets of construction paper. "You're home quite late... I made dinner, but I put it in the fridge for you."

"Sorry, mom." He smiles, closing the door behind him, closing out the darkness and the stars. "Jockington needed a bit of help with homework."

She smiles at him, warm and fond. "Well, I will understand if you need rest, but..." She gestures at the construction paper. "While I get your dinner warmed up, would you mind helping me out? I have a new lesson plan for tomorrow, and the scissors are difficult to work with these." She waves her paw, shaking her head ruefully.

He grins, going to sit at the table. "No problem, mom."

The moment by the doors fades, slowly, back into a haze, as he chatters about his school day and plans for the week.

The kitchen is full of the smell of home cooking and the quiet sound of scissors through paper.

(He does not think of the stars again.)

\---

Weeks pass, on and on.

He walks into the classroom one morning, rubbing sleep from his eyes still. It's early, and the classroom is mostly empty still - even Alphys hasn't arrived. The only two present are him and--

"Uh, hey, Noelle," he says, waving at the girl who is doing her best to glare at him.

"Where were you last night?" she demands, shaking her head. "I... I waited for hours, I tried to call, I... I thought you were dead or something because even Ms. Toriel didn't know where you were--!"

Guilt slams into him like a truck. "Right, right, uh--the group project... Sorry. Emergency came up, and my phone died halfway through." He presses his hands together, apologetic. "Uh. Tell you what. This Saturday, I'm all yours."

She stares at him for a second, then sighs, giving a rueful smile. "...A-alright." She shrugs. "If you... ever have emergencies, you can just call, you know. I know you can't be free all the time. I... I definitely get that..."

He goes to sit at his middle desk, stretching out. "I still feel bad. I really, really didn't mean to..." He shrugs a little, grinning. "If you want, I can make it up to you by slipping your number to a certain purple girl."

He's rewarded by Noelle going visibly red even through her fur. "I told you that in confidence, Asriel, not to tease me with every time we talk--"

He laughs, leaning back. "Alright, alright."

There's a few moments of silence except for the ticking of the clock.

"Um." A pause. "Would you... actually..."

He laughs, nodding, and watches her get redder and redder.

Slowly, others file in, one by one, taking their seats. Class goes on. And after--track, this time, he and Noelle talking as they run, planning out the first stages of the project, and they part ways with mutual smiles.

(He walks home late that night, still feeling cold metal on his back and the weight of the stars overhead.)

("Group project," he says, and his mother looks at him and says nothing for a long time.)

(He just smiles back, on and on, until she relents and calls him to the table.)

\---

Staring at the sickly green stars one night, hands folded behind his head, he wonders, idly - how bad will it have to get before anyone notices?

It doesn't matter that much.

He can hide it a few days longer.

He can hide it until everyone is happy.

He sinks into sleep, and his dreams are dark and empty and cold and lonely, and in them he is at peace.


	2. not even sure i'm here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for mild self-injury (scratching) in this chapter.

The golden light filtering in through the stained glass windows always seems different from any other light. It colors everything it touches gold, making everything shine from within.

Father Alvin is speaking, but Asriel knows all his sermons by heart. He's heard the words - the talk of the will of the Angel, the guidance that They offer - so many times that they blend together. His voice, low and commanding, becomes just another part of everything. His voice echoing through the chapel, the light through the windows, the scent of incense - all of it lulls Asriel, somehow.

He stands in a row with the others, waiting for his moment. He watches the golden light shining through his fur, and he rocks on his paws, just a little. All of it is comfortable routine.

For here, for a little while, he feels nothing but the warmth of that golden light.

The organ starts to play, a tune he's heard a thousand times before, and he opens his mouth and prepares to sing, and

\---

"Here you go, little buddy," BP says, passing him his tray.

He blinks, once, dazed, looking down at the tray - then shrugs, smiling. "Thanks, BP."

"Any time for one of my two decent customers." BP rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "You got any idea when Kris is coming back? Place isn't the same without them trying to drink out of the ICE-E machine nozzle."

At that, Asriel's grin widens a little. "Yeah, I remember that. All, uh, dozen times before they got formally banned." He shakes his head ruefully. "Mom says they might drop by for Thanksgiving break next month, so. Get the disinfectant ready."

"Got a bucket of it with their name on it." Burgerpants shrugs, going back to cleaning the counter (mostly by wiping a rag over the same spot over and over again in an effort to look busy).

Asriel gives him a wave, turning to find what table his friends are sitting at, and

\---

Cold metal against his back, damp grass underneath, the stars overhead, and his phone is ringing, ringing, ringing and when he picks it up there's

just

static

and

\---

"My, you are growing like a weed!" his dad says with a laugh, pulling him into a hug that's a little too tight. He hugs back, a little awkward, still only barely able to get his arms around.

"Is that a compliment coming from a gardener...?" he asks, grinning a bit, and Asgore laughs and ruffles his growing mane.

"Weeds can be the most beautiful elements of a garden, you know. Dandelions used to be considered a useful plant to grow for food, and of course they're a lovely gold..." Asgore shakes his head. "But you didn't come here to listen to me ramble. We have deliveries to make."

"And they're for...?" Asriel prompts, trying to be soft. Gentle. (Smile strained at the edges.)

"Oh, well, just... brightening people's days, I suppose. Leaving them at some doorsteps, making sure that everyone is alright..." Asgore rubs the back of his head.

Asriel's smile is wide, wide, wide. "C'mon, dad. If you sold them, they'd sell like crazy. You know that. And I know that Mrs. Holiday is..."

Asgore waves his hand, dismissive. "She and Rudy are old friends. I know she'll understand a few more weeks. And I have made sales." He smiles a little, hesitant. "Besides, isn't spreading good cheer reason enough? When Kris comes back to visit, I... want them to see a town full of flowers and good cheer, not..."

There's a moment of quiet.

"Well, let's get delivering, then," Asriel says, still smiling, and

\---

"...you'd like them, I think," Kris says, voice hoarse and made tinny over the phone line. "They like some of the same anime and stuff, although they, uh, had strong words about your opinion on Mew Mew Kissy Cutie."

"What? Don't tell me they like 2 better," Asriel says, laying back on his bed. (Glancing around him at the half-dark room.) "Bad enough that my teacher keeps marking me down for daring to like rainbows and happiness."

"Yeah, sorry. They're pretty convinced that Hanako succumbing to the Dark Kissy Force was, quote, 'the culmination of her arc and her slow realization that humanity is ultimately irredeemable,' end quote. They have dissertation-length Tumblr posts. I'll send you them." They laugh, a hoarse bark.

"Well, I can see why you're making friends with them." Asriel grins at the dark, looking up at the sickly stars. "School going alright overall, then?"

"Yeah, it's... it's going surprisingly okay. Still... bad days... but I'm making it through."

"Well, I'm always a call away if anything comes up," he promises, soft. "I know you can do this. And I'll see you in three weeks, right?"

"Two weeks," Kris says, sounding a little puzzled. "...Little less, actually."

For a second, he just looks off into the dark.

"Right. Yeah. Two weeks." He laughs at last. "Sorry, still distracted by your new friend's terrible anime opinions."

"I'm gonna drag them home with me just to see you two fight," Kris threatens with another bark of laughter.

"Bring it on," Asriel says with a grin. "And, Kris--"

\---

"...Asriel?"

He lifts his head slowly, looking into Noelle's eyes. She's frowning, a little, head tilted. He notes the bags under her eyes look deeper than the last time he saw her.

(The last time he remembers seeing her, at least.)

"Are you alright?" she asks, pulling back again to her end of the couch. "You've... You were kind of... spaced out..."

"Yeah, uh, sorry. Just not sleeping the best, I guess?" He rubs the back of his head, sheepish. "But I should be good to go. Where were we?"

She looks at him for a second. "We were going to go over reflection dynamics."

"Right, right..." He glances at the textbook, flipping through, trying to find his place.

It takes him a bit to realize he's looking at his history book.

"Asriel?" Noelle asks, quiet, and his heart is pounding in his chest. "You... know you can talk to me about things, right? I mean, you listen to me all the time... If something's going on..."

He stares at the page, the words dancing and blurring. His fingers tighten their grip, digging into the paper a little too much, claws leaving neat little indentations in the glossy pages.

"I'm just..." He shakes his head. "Maybe... a little feverish. That's all. I've been kind of pushing myself a bit, and..."

"You've been like this for weeks," she protests. "Missing study sessions, or spacing out halfway through them. Forgetting things. Asriel, something's wrong, and I don't--don't know what--!"

He can't look at her. He can't even lift his head. "Nothing's--It's nothing! It's nothing, okay, and you have enough to worry about--"

"I can worry about my friend, can't I?!" Noelle protests, setting aside her textbook with a thud. "Asriel, talk to me!"

He feels something welling in him, burning, something deep down, and he just wants her to shut up shut up shut up and he opens his mouth and

\---

He's in bed.

The room is dark except for the glowing stars overhead. He's laying on top of his covers, and he can feel the way his pants cling to the wet fur on his legs, can feel dirt underneath his claws. He's been back out there again, then, the spot by the doors that he keeps finding himself at.

He whines sharply, kicking at the covers beneath him hard. The cut-off anger still burns, feeling fresh and hot, but he's alone again, and the Angel only knows what he actually said to Noelle.

He doesn't understand. He doesn't know what's going on, what's in the gaps of foggy haze that seem to eat at more and more of his memory. He doesn't know what's taking away so much, and he doesn't know what Noelle saw that nobody else did, and--

And--

No.

He feels it, this time, feels the way the fog starts to close in around him, but his anger and fear are still strong and he's not letting go, not until at least he understands, not until he has something, anything, anything at all.

He grips onto his arm too tight, digging in claws. The pain helps him focus, a little, keeping the numbness at bay. His breathing comes in sharp gasps, and he closes his eyes tight.

He doesn't want to wake Toriel up, he realizes, and he can't fight back a bitter laugh. How stupid of him. He's having breaks from reality, and he's still worried about bothering his mom. It feels ridiculous, now, here in the dark.

But she's been through so much. She's done so much for Kris, for him. And if he can just figure this out on his own, he won't have to bother anyone.

He just has to figure it out.

He can handle himself.

He breathes in deep again, feeling the cold in his chest. His chest. That's the source. Even with his fear, his heart is beating so, so slowly, and the numbness is spreading from it.

His hand travels to his chest, slowly, and he digs in his claws, but the numbness doesn't let up so he digs deeper and deeper and light spills into the bedroom, and pain is starting to shoot through him and he still keeps digging and--

AH.

I SEE PERHAPS

WE WILL NEED

SOMETHING MORE.

The world goes dark, and quiet, and he can feel nothing at all.

The last thing he sees before consciousness fades is the glint of something bone-white in the dark.


	3. same old vacant stare

Settle down at her desk. Open her bag. Pencil case at the top, notebook in front of her, any workbooks or extra material tucked into the slot beneath the desk, thermos of hot chocolate set at the top left (after a quick sip, of course). She goes through the motions one by one, setting everything out as if fitting the pieces onto an invisible grid.

When it's all set up, she lets herself take a moment to breathe.

The routine helps, a little. The simple, half-mindless task and the clear result - they help. This, at least, stays steady. This, at least, holds.

Even when--

She grabs the thermos, takes a longer drink, lets the just-slightly-too-hot chocolate linger in her mouth.

The door opens, and she looks up, half-hoping, half-dreading. She's the first into class, but the most common second is someone she needs to talk to.

But the figure standing there is blue and feathered, and she sighs and looks away.

"Good morning, #2 student," he says, and she smiles at nothing in particular and makes some affirmative noise in response.

The appeal of the neat little grid of school supplies is already fading.

He takes the desk next to her, as always, chattering away about--something. She doesn't care or pay attention, just makes the right noises at the right times as she keeps an eye on the door.

Jockington, Snowdrake, MK, Temmie, Catti -- one by one, they file in, settle in, chatter to each other or scroll through their phones. She's almost worried, now. Asriel's been coming in later, sometimes, but never late. Surely, surely...

The bell rings, and she jolts.

When Alphys bustles in, apologizing, setting up the lesson plan and letting them know to get into pairs, she doesn't hear a thing.

She just stares at the pencils neatly laid out at her desk.

(And when he finally steps in, blank-faced, blank-eyed, she hardly feels surprise at all.)

\---

"Ms. Alphys," she says, her voice barely quaking. "Asriel and I can, um... We can get the chalk?"

Alphys looks at her for a moment, almost blank, then nods. "G-good plan, Noelle! Just, uh... hurry back, because we have a big lesson plan today, the episode's almost an hour long..."

She nods, smiles, rising from her seat. "We'll be right back!" she chirps, with false cheer she doesn't feel.

If she rushes into the hallway just a little fast, she's fairly certain no one cares enough to notice.

(Although she glances back, briefly, takes in the puzzled expression on Susie's face for just a moment.)

She has to wait longer than seems necessary for Asriel to follow her out, but finally he does, closing the door behind him with a click. He looks at her, with that same blank, empty expression he's worn all morning.

"Um. So." She smiles at him, forced. "Maybe while we walk, we can... talk?"

He just looks at her.

"Still not... talkative, huh?" Her smile slips. "I... Asriel, do you..."

Her hand balls into a fist, black nails digging into her palm.

"Do you... think I'm stupid?"

No answer.

She takes a step closer, hating how her legs tremble, how her hands shake, how her body belies her fear. "You've been--You've been so weird, and you keep acting like I won't notice, won't care! The way you just walked out on study session, claiming your mom needed you? The stuff you keep forgetting? Something's wrong, really wrong, and I just..."

Her shoulders slump. "I thought we were friends, you know? I thought that it was... more than just our families being friends. I talk to you about everything, you know that. I thought it was mutual. But do you not trust me at all...?"

He says nothing at all, fixing her with that empty stare.

She stares back for a long few moments, then laughs, hoarse, bitter, and turns away. "Okay! Okay, that's fine. That's... I won't bug you any more, okay?" The tremble is back, worse. Stupid. Stupid. She's been so stupid. "I get it. Sorry for, for, um... bothering you so much, Asriel! Thanks for putting up with it." Another forced laugh. "Let's get the chalk, okay?"

She walks down the hallway, hooves clicking on the floor. Behind her, she hears his softer footsteps, slow, hesitant.

She wills the shaking to stop, to hide how afraid she is for him, how angry, how tired.

It doesn't stop.

Of course.

She feels like such an idiot.

It's not a long walk to the closet, which is a mercy, at least. She feels glad for that much. She can get this done with, go back to her desk, and handle things, and Asriel won't have to put up with her meddling and nosiness any more.

She reaches for the handle--

The door swings open on its own.

Behind it is

(nothing)

a room too dark to see.

She takes a step back, uncertain. "Wow, uh... G-guess the bulb got blown in there?" A nervous laugh. "Um, do you... see the chalk?" A pause. "Or... the shelves?"

No reply.

"R-right! Um!" She stares at the doorway, hesitating.

(Crybaby Noelle, coward Noelle, scared of everything, scared of the dark, and she could tell him to go in and she knows that, even like this, even with whatever has him so tired he can barely emote, he'd do it--)

She squares her shoulders, walking through the door, and he follows.

Inside, it's still darker. The shuffling noises beneath her hooves suggest that the floor is covered in paper, but as much as she feels along the walls (cool beneath her touch), she can't feel the shelves, or the back of the closet she knows is there.

"Maybe we... went in the wrong door?" she suggests to the air, as if that's even a possibility in a school this size, with a closet she's visited a thousand times. "This seems more like, like... a corridor? To, um, nothing? Haha..."

No reply, of course. She's almost getting used to that.

Almost.

"Okay! Let's... let's turn back, okay?" She turns around, trying to smile. "I don't know what this is about, but, uh, we're not going to find chalk, so..."

She's a step away from the door when it slams shut with a close, leaving them in pitch blackness.

Fear spikes through her, sharp, uncontrollable. "Oh no, no--Did someone shut the door?" She runs forward, tries the knob. No give. "No, no--C'mon, this isn't funny, it's not--"

The floor shakes beneath her feet

She feels the papers give way, feels stability slip

And then

darkness

and

falling

down,

down,

down--

\---

She wakes up with a splitting headache.

With a groan, she pushes herself up into a sitting position, blinking bleariness from her eyes. The floor beneath her is cold and rough, digging into her uncomfortably.

She lifts a hand to rub her forehead--

And pauses.

Her fur is a richer, warmer shade, almost orange even in the dim light, and her nails have picked up a layer of iridescence. She's wearing some sort of white robe, not her usual sweater, with long, draping sleeves. Now that she's paying attention, she realizes that the hair falling half over her eyes is a paler, silvery shade too.

Okay, she thinks, staring at her hand, her sleeve. She's having a nightmare. That makes sense of everything today - the weird corridor going nowhere, the way Asriel literally isn't talking to her any more, and now--

She finally looks around, seeing the stone platform she's settled on.

Seeing the yawning, endless darkness off every edge.

"Nightmare," she says aloud, and she gives another hoarse laugh that's not really a laugh at all.

At least it's a refreshing change of pace.

It's been a while since she had a nightmare that didn't end 

(with dust on white sheets and a deep laugh fading into a gurgling choke)

the same way.

She picks herself up off the floor and she starts to walk.

\---

It's a while in that she realizes she's being followed.

She doesn't run. She's tried to run in her nightmares before, and it always ends badly, so she just keeps walking. It's fine. Maybe if the monster catches her or whatever the dream will end.

Still, as the footsteps draw in behind her, she quickens her pace, just a little, moving faster around the strange almost pulsating clumps around her, hearing the footsteps draw nearer, nearer...

When they stop right behind her, she stifles a scream.

She turns only slowly, ready to face whatever new fanged and mawed horror her brain has conjured up--

And blinks, once.

His fur has taken on a pale periwinkle sheen, and he's dressed differently - a silver breastplate over a purple tunic, marked with the Delta Rune; black trousers with silver boots over them that conform to the shape of his paws; a long darker purple cape trailing behind him with a shimmering, iridescent inside, pinned with a silvery heart-shaped brooch; dramatic, curling, spiked shoulderpads; a silvery tiara resting between his horns. Still, Asriel is immediately recognizable.

He looks, she thinks, a little dorky. Like one of the characters he used to draw when they played together as kids. 

She doesn't manage to suppress a giggle. He doesn't react, at least.

"Guess, um... Guess you made it to this part of the nightmare, huh?" she says with a weak smile. "You look... good!"

Blank face. She wonders why she's bothering to compliment a figment of her imagination.

She turns away, starting to walk again. "I'm... not sure when I'll wake up? But this isn't... too bad in the meantime?" She shrugs, feeling her sleeves wave. "Definitely not the worst nightmare I've had, um. This week?"

He follows behind, and she sighs. She's almost starting to wonder what kind of message this dream is meant to even send. Maybe it's just that she's playing too many video games before bed. So far, there's barely even been any danger, which seems weird for a nightmare--

Her attention is broken as she looks up, noticing a far-distant figure standing at the top of a pillar.

Tentatively, she waves to it.

It waves back, eagerly -- and then flings a bullet that misses her by inches.

She almost feels a vague sense of relief as she starts to run.

\---

She's breathing hard by the time she reaches the bottom of the cliff, some mix of exhilaration and exhaustion draining her despite years of track. Asriel joins her a few seconds after, landing with surprising grace.

"I... think we lost them?" she says, trying to not sound as puzzled as she feels by that. Twice now, she's been chased without being caught and killed. 

There's something itching at the back of her brain. Some realization that she's putting off.

Asriel starts to walk again, and she follows after him. The walls are different here, everything blue stone instead of gray, sparkling slightly.

And there, to the north --

The town looks like the staging for some hastily put together school play, all paper-thin awkwardly-leaning cutouts. It seems to crowd in on itself, everything leaning together to create the illusion of something more busy than it is.

And past it, there looms a castle, more real and solid than the town.

Something rises from the top of it, a dark waterfall in reverse, stretching up into the sky. It's almost hard to focus on it - it's a darker black than the black and empty sky around it, a shade that seems impossible. She vaguely remembers learning about Stygian blue, about colors that seemed darker than the black around them. This, perhaps, is Stygian black.

She commends her subconscious for its hard work.

Asriel heads north, and she trails after, glancing around at the prop town. She can't quite see the structures and supports that must be there - the buildings almost seem to bend to keep facing her - but she still can't shake the impression.

For a moment, Asriel lingers by the central 'courtyard', just south of the castle gates.

She feels warm, for a moment. There's a flicker of red just behind her eyes that passes as quickly as it came.

And then he walks in, and she follows.

"Jeez, there you two are," a voice says, hoarse and scratchy. "I was starting to wonder if I should just go on without you. Would probably get myself killed, but, y'know, whatever."

"Who's there?!" she demands, hating the way her voice shakes. Even in her own dreams, she can't manage real confidence.

"Oh, yeah. Gotta do introductions, all the prophecy... Right..." Slowly, a figure walks into view. They're dressed in white and gold - a loose white top, marked with a star and tied with a golden belt, golden boots folded just below the knee, a white veil that covers their hair (and what looks like their horns) trailing behind their head and secured with a golden laurel crown that should have rested over their eyes.

If their eyes were visible.

They're wearing a black mesh mask, hiding their face, rendering it a flat dome. Onto the front, in gold paint, a sharp-fanged mouth has been painted, twisted into a wide grin.

"Hey," they say with a wave. "Name's Risk. Been waiting, uh, ages for you nerds."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, ralsei.


End file.
